Violets Aren't Blue
by sugarapplesweet
Summary: It's all been heard before... 'Roses are red and violets are blue,' but the truth is, violets aren't blue. And like violets, the word 'love' can't always be easily described. A series of Denny x boy pairings.
1. Chills

**Author's Note:** Really, violets aren't blue since you'd think they'd be called "blues" if that were the case. :) And, yes, that _is_ the best I could do for a title! XD

The stories included in this series are all Denny yaoi pairing one-shots, so if you don't like guy love, please don't write me a mean and nasty review. Most of these can also be interpreted as friendship stories, anyway...

I'll be writing these in the order of the most to the least amount of votes from my last poll (now closed), so please enjoy the first installment!

**Disclaimer:** I don't HM or any of its characters. I just like to pair them up. X3

--

**Chills**

"Goddess... it's really piling up out there," a young man muttered as his bright, green eyes gazed out the front window onto his property. Winter had only just settled in on the island, but snow had already blanketed the entire town seemingly overnight. Although most may have found the sight to be filled with the magic of purity and innocence, the farmer was less than impressed. Yes, it was certainly beautiful, but for someone who worked the land for a living, he was having a hard time welcoming the new season during which it was near impossible to grow crops, his main source of income. It also didn't help his opinion towards this time of year any that he wouldn't have much in his fridge, either, until the spring thaw.

As if right on cue, his stomach growled in bitter agreement, and he clamped a hand tightly over the unusually angry spot.

"Oh, quiet you," he scolded half-heartedly before sighing in defeat. "I should be getting to bed then, I guess..." he mumbled, running his calloused fingers through a tuft of blonde hair that poked out from under his hat. Even though he knew it was only seven, he had to at least _hope_ sleep would keep his mind off of his hunger pains. He couldn't very well fix himself dinner that evening since he had nothing to cook in the first place. He'd heard once that some people _chose_ not to eat for days on end for religious purposes, but in his mind, he felt like no _true_ god would will this upon the faithful. It was almost maddening...

The lonely nights were more than enough to make him completely pitiful without having to _starve_ himself to be sure he could still make ends meet. Regardless, he was sick of _both_ situations in his life as a bachelor... a _shipwrecked_ one at that.

It was only fair to admit, though, that _he'd_ been the one to chose to stay on the island after some... _gentle _persuasion from the old man who'd become his mentor. He had to smile as he recalled his first impressions of the elder as nothing more than a crazed man in denial that he was getting into his later years, but now he no longer felt that way. The man had once been a skilled farmer, so he happened to find a bit of solid advice in the other's seemingly endless ramblings. Maybe that's all that had been keeping him going through to this point.

However, tonight he wasn't interested in dwelling on anything other than a good night's sleep to quiet his stomach, and he quickly began readying himself for bed. Although he usually preferred to sleep in his boxers, there was a rather distinct chill in the air, and he decided it'd be best to wear his flannel pajamas instead. They might have been old, which was rather obvious since their blue color had faded considerably, but they were the best he could do. It didn't even matter if they had a hole in the seat of them... just as long as they kept him warm on a cold winter's evening.

For what he hoped would be the last time, another angry rumble rippled through his small body, but he ignored it while tucking himself into bed. His blankets weren't all that comforting at first, yet soon enough the warmth began to settle in around him reassuringly. His thoughts faded out into a soothing silence in his weary mind, and after he let himself calm down a bit more, his breaths became smooth and even in sleep.

It was a short lived peace, though, before there was a loud banging at his front door.

At first, he refused to go answer it since he was understandably bitter towards his unwelcome visitor, but the pounding became increasingly insistent. Finally giving into defeat, the farmer dragged himself out of the pleasant warmth of his bed and back into the numbing cold of his small shack, muttering curses under his breath while he held himself close to stop his teeth from chattering. There was another forceful knock, and he snapped irritably, "I'm _coming,_ dammit!"

Just as he slammed open the door, he was face to face with a bewildered young man, and once he realized who it was, his glare was even more livid. It was the local fisherman... _again. _"Denny," he grumbled, "should I bother to ask why the hell _you're_ here?"

"Aw, come on, Mark," the other complained, shifting his feet. "Can't you at least interrogate me _inside?" _His host merely raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest while he leaned casually against the doorpost. "Don't be like that..." he whined pitifully. He often came to the farm house during the winter since he claimed his own shack was in even _worse_ condition, but the blonde was getting tired of these increasingly frequent visits. _"Kuu's_ the one I'm worried about... not me," he explained as he motioned to the small, black mass of sleek feathers tucked in his plaid, purple jacket.

"Fine," the farmer relented with a cruel grin, "he can come in, but you have to stay out here." Of course he was only teasing, but the expression on his guest wore was almost too much. His entire face had fallen, and his mouth was slightly agape, unable to form a reply. Mark chuckled to himself and stepped out of the way to let the young man inside, "Get in here then and quit heating the outdoors," he scolded gently, shaking his head as he tried to understand how someone could've taken his remark _seriously._

"Why do you have to be like that?" Denny mumbled, shoving his fists deep into his jeans' pockets while he sulked. He was offered a seat which he told unceremoniously by plopping down and resting his feet on the table. A wet puddle immediately began to form under the heels of his rubber boots, but he didn't seem to notice the other man's disapproving glare. Either that or he simply didn't give a shit... It was always hard to tell with the free spirited fisherman.

"Mind if I ask why you're here with a winter storm coming in?" Mark asked at last. Although he knew his friend could be strange at times, he doubted he was an idiot by any means. However, it wouldn't have been the first time he'd gone and done something stupid. After all, the fool had once told him that he'd caught sharks before in deeper waters.

Of course that could've been just another fisherman's tale...

"Because it didn't look like it was going to hit earlier," he explained with a shrug. "Wouldn't be the first time bad weather put me out for the day, though..." The farmer rolled his eyes at the other's casual ways since he was certain the young man would wind up dead one day due to his reckless nature. He never even _considered_ the consequences of his rash actions most of the time, and that was just waiting for disaster. Mark supposed it was a result of Denny really having no one else to live for except himself.

He'd only mentioned it once before, but both of his parents had lost their lives during an ocean storm. Like the young man sitting across from him, he'd survived the shipwreck by landing on the shore of a nearby island while his folks were dragged further out to sea. Although he'd been separated from them, he'd said he could still remember hearing his mother's cries, and his brown eyes would always grow distant as he recalled the horrific memory from his earlier days. He never did explain why he chose to continue following their clearly perilous lifestyle, though...

"You eat yet?" Denny asked suddenly, snapping his host out of his dreary thoughts. Summoned once again, Mark's stomach protested angrily to have been ignored for so long. His pale cheeks flushed while his friend laughed, slapping his hand on the table in his amusement. "I guess not..." he snickered, wiping away a tear though he was still smiling broadly.

_"Well,"_ the farmer shot back, "I _would've_ if there was anything _to_ eat here." To make his point perfectly clear, he stormed over to his cupboards and began slamming them open for his visitor to see. The other raised an eyebrow to see that everything was, indeed, completely bare except for a roll of tin foil and a couple empty garbage bags, yet then he shook his head in dismay. His unruly chocolate curls tumbled out from under his loosely tied purple bandanna as he did so, but he didn't bother to readjust it. He simply stood and strode towards his friend.

"That's no good..." he agreed, beginning to take off his jacket. Mark opened his mouth to speak once again until a bundle was handed off to him. Inside he could see a small bird staring up at him in bewilderment, and as his owner had said, the poor creature was shivering something awful. "Watch Kuu for me, and I'll be right back," the brunette instructed before he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

"Are you going to be okay out there?" the farmer protested, cradling the trembling bundle like an infant. His green eyes were filled with concern, but the man merely smiled gratefully at him.

Denny assured his friend calmly, "Yeah, I'll be alright, so you don't have to worry. Just make sure Kuu gets warmed up..." Once Mark gave him a sharp nod, he walked out into the snow again, and the one who'd been left behind sighed in defeat.

Gazing down at the small bird, he asked himself why the other cared so dearly for it. Although he had to admit Kuu was rather cute in his own way, especially when he was mimicking the sailor's expressions, he didn't really understand the man's devotion to him. Maybe it was because Denny was the one to save him during a typhoon, or perhaps he was simply tired of leading a lonely life at sea. However, his love for him was most likely a result of the fisherman having no one else after his parents' deaths.

_Yes,_ Mark agreed with a sad smile, _that would explain it..._ As if Kuu had read the young man's mind, his beady black eyes shown with understanding, and he returned his sorrow with his own pitiful gaze. "Will you take care of him for me, Kuu?" he asked the small bird. _I really do worry about him sometimes, _he admitted to himself even though the little penguin knew it perfect well already. The bundle of feathers nodded in simply agreement, and the farmer actually sighed with relief. "Thanks..." he mumbled.

--

Just as he'd promised, Denny soon returned to the shack, and although he was shaking something awful, he proudly lifted up a string of fish for his host to see. "Sorry I took a little longer than expected," he apologized with a weak laugh, "but it's hard to hurry when you're ass is almost frozen clear off." He laid the fish out on the counter before he turned to smile warming towards his friends.

"It's a wonder you didn't freeze to death," Mark admonished him gently while cradling Kuu in one arm and handing his friend a blanket with his free hand. His brow was furrowed fretfully, and his jaw was rigid with worry. His troubled expression actually made the fisherman chuckle to himself which made the blonde stare blankly at the other in confusion. "What's so funny?" he asked casually.

"Mark, you sound like you're my _wife,"_ Denny replied with a cheeky grin. Instantly, the young farmer's cheeks were burning a bright red, and for a moment, he was rendered absolutely speechless while he struggled to find the words to protest. His guest merely laughed before he took the blanket from his outstretched hand and then patted him on the head. "Although if you _were_ my wife, you'd have to lose those pajamas of yours," he continued to tease his flustered companion.

"Well then, what _should_ I wear?" the other shot back before he could stop himself. The two fell into an awkward silence as they both blinked in surprise, but soon enough the fisherman was grinning broadly once more.

"Since you're so curious," he began with a laugh, "I think you'd look pretty damn good in a silk nighty..."

The farmer's jaw dropped as he heard the reply, but he quickly shook it off as best he could. However, he couldn't rid himself of the embarrassment altogether even though the brunette was still chuckling. "Isn't it a little... _weird_ that you decided that so quickly?" he growled, trying to mask his own uncertainty about the fellow in front of him.

"Aw, come on," Denny replied, rolling his eyes, "you know I was just kidding you." Despite his owner's words, Mark caught Kuu shaking his head in reply, and suddenly it was the young man's turn to smile since he felt he'd been let in on what might be a rather... _interesting_ secret.

_"He_ doesn't think so, apparently," he remarked calmly, nodding to the bundle still wrapped up in his arms. The fisherman's tanned cheeks flared immediately, and he shot his first mate a stern glare which caused the small bird to glance away sheepishly. He coughed nervously before he turned to begin working in the kitchen. "Aren't you going to say anything?" Mark pressed earnestly.

"No," he snapped back. _There's no way in hell..._ he added in his own mind although he felt his friend's eyes settling on him uncomfortably. He chose to ignore his growing discomfort and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, but he could still sense that the other wasn't completely convinced. He sighed heavily for a second time and glanced over his shoulder to see Mark staring at him questionably, but he didn't bother to defend himself. What was the point? He didn't give a shit about others' opinions of him... not at all...

"Don't you need to clean those first?" Mark asked, motioning towards the fish splayed out on his counter. Luckily, his rather obvious attempt to change the subject went unnoticed as he tapped into the fisherman's main interest, and he breathed a sigh of relief to know his plan had worked. There were some benefits to his friend's seemingly one-track mind, after all.

"Yeah..." Denny agreed wistfully, relieved to have the tension dissipate. Then he suddenly perked right back up to his usual, cheerful self, and he rattled on as if the previous, awkward conversation hadn't even occurred. Although his host was happy to see this change in attitude, he also couldn't shake the feeling that he was a little _too_ eager. Almost like he was hiding something... "Have you ever cleaned a fish?"

"Umm..." the farmer cringed as his green eyes widened at the thought of the rather gruesome procedure. Honestly, how could _anyone_ be at ease while dicing up something that had been living only moments ago. _Well..._ he thought as he glanced at the fish in their frozen state, _I don't think they'll be feeling anything anytime soon, I guess..._

"I'll take that as a _no,_" Denny laughed, motioning for the other to join him. Kuu immediately seemed to perk up as well with the familiar sights and smells that he'd grown to know and love during a life at sea, and after he nearly squirmed right out of Mark's arms, the young man finally set him down on the counter beside his owner. The small bird's eyes shown with excitement until the shipmates grinned at one another eagerly. Their host inwardly shivered to see the almost sadistic smiles they brandished since they seemed to take a little _too_ much pleasure in the task at hand.

"The first thing you've got to do," the fisherman continued, "is decide what you're gonna do with it. You can grill or bake 'em, but I like to fry myself... There's a different procedure for each, so you don't want to waste any of it." The blonde nodded weakly, cringing as the man wielded a dull knife. He immediately began scraping at the scales which made the other wince again due to the grating sound of the flesh being shaved away. "Don't worry," the brunette reassured him, "he won't feel a thing. After all, look at his eyes."

Mark had to glance away at the mere _thought_ of peering into the clouded gaze of the creature, but the fisherman simply laughed and kept rattling on instructions.

"Just take your knife and cut right behind the gills," he explained casually as he did so. Unfortunately, Denny hadn't mentioned one major detail in his technique, and the poor farmer nearly fainted when the fish's inner contents made an unwelcome appearance. The crimson that had seeped out onto his pure white countertop mortified him, yet his guest was completely unfazed, having seen it countless times before. He simply let Kuu clean up after him which caused the blonde to nearly heave, regardless of the empty state of his stomach.

"I-I've got to sit down..." Mark mumbled, turning abruptly on his heel and making a dash for the restroom. His friend just chuckled to himself and rolled his eyes while he watched him scurry off.

"Think he's still hungry?" he asked Kuu with a mischievous grin. The small bird shook his head in amusement, and they both shared a good laugh until they heard the unappetizing sounds coming from the direction that their host had fled. Glancing at one another, they involuntarily shivered in unison and tried to concentrate on their work.

Even for them, the idea of eating fish had just become rather distasteful...

--

"Well, it's not _so_ bad," Mark admitted after taking a small bite of the pan fried fillet on his plate. Although his friend had _insisted_ that it would be delicious, he was surprised to find it tasted absolutely... _heavenly._ Sure, it was a simple recipe, but since he hadn't eaten so well in a considerable amount of time, he was more than grateful for a solid meal. He immediately launched himself into an feeding frenzy following his first morsel.

"See? I told you it'd be easier once I lopped off their heads," Denny chuckled, propping his foot on the edge of the table as he leaned back in his chair. "It's the eyes that seem to get to most people," he added while picking his teeth clean with a sharp, leftover bone.

"About that..." the farmer murmured, his mouth still rather full. "What'd you do with them? I don't want my house smelling like rotten fish, you know."

"Don't worry," the other assured him, motioning towards the bird that was perched on his shoulder. "Kuu took care of them." The blonde's entire face blanched and he tried to swallow as he thought about the bundle of feathers actually _eating_ that part of the fish's remains, but his visitor was completely unfazed by the idea. "He had to eat _something,"_ the man explained, and both sailors shrugged casually at the same time like it was nothing.

"He already ate..." his host reminded him, thinking back on the other unsavory parts that had made their way down the bird's gluttonous throat. He shivered to imagine the texture of those nasty bits. He would never understand how anything could possibly stomach things of that nature, but he supposed it didn't really matter. As long as _he_ didn't have to go about eating it, he should be able to handle someone else doing the honors for him. At least it made the clean up that much easier in the end...

"You'd be surprised how much he needs to eat," Denny replied, "but it's worth it to see him happy, you know?" Kuu nuzzled affectionately into his cheek to hear this, and he returned the gesture while cooing gently to his little friend. Mark smiled softly to see his companion's tenderness towards the bird, but soon enough he began to clear away the dishes, leaving them to their sweet assurances to one another.

Once he did so, he heard the man's chair scoot back while it dragged across the hardwood floor, and he realized his guests were about to leave. However, it only took a glance out the window for him to decide that he wouldn't stand for it. "Hey," he ordered just as the other was pulling on his jacket, "you can't go out in this weather!"

"Why not?" the brunette demanded, tucking Kuu into the front of his coat for warmth. "My place isn't that far from here..."

"Did you even _look_ outside?" Mark argued, motioning to the blizzard that raged just beyond the windowpane. Indeed, they could all hear the wind hollowing furiously, and it was nothing less than a whiteout, being that neither of them could even see more than a foot in front of the house. Although he was no stranger to storms, Denny had to admit it would be insanity to try and brave one such as this. He sighed in defeat, and he began to unzip his flannel jacket once again.

"Got anything I can wear for the night?" Denny asked at last. When his host shook his head apologetically, he gave another heavy sigh and rolled his eyes. "I guess I'll manage," he reassured the other with a smile.

"Are you alright with sharing a bed?" the farmer mumbled, glancing down at his slippers as his cheeks warmed. It wasn't like he'd forgotten their earlier conversation before dinner, so he was a little apprehensive to have the other in such close proximity. However, he felt his heart fall slightly when he heard his overnight guest's alternative.

"I could always sleep on the floor," he offered. There was no hurt in his voice, but Mark couldn't help feeling guilty for being so... _paranoid_. If he was a _real_ man, he could handle having his good friend share his bed, or so he told himself, anyway. It didn't matter that he was another guy... He could handle a single night, and besides, hadn't he been feeling lonely lately? He finally shook his head to rid himself of his last thought, motioning for the other to get into bed first.

Even though Denny raised an eyebrow, he complied and started shedding his clothes casually. He simply began by kicking off his boots before whipping off his towel from around his neck, and he left both articles of his clothing strewn about lazily in a trail behind him. Mark frowned and picked up after him as he did so. However, as he heard the man's belt buckle hit the floor, the blonde's entire face was flushed with embarrassment. "What are you _doing?"_

"Have _you_ ever tried sleeping in jeans?" the fisherman countered with a grin, slipping off his pants effortlessly much to his host's discomfort. "It doesn't exactly feel too good," he remarked as Kuu, who continued to sit perched on his shoulder, chuckled in agreement.

_Denny's just another guy..._ the farmer reminded himself. _He told you he was joking earlier, so __relax__._ Nodding to assure himself that this was the case, he smiled at his friend and replied, "Yeah, I guess you're right." Right then, he glanced up to see the boxers the man was sporting were a striking violet, and his memories of his being teased in mercilessly in Junior High for the same thing came back to haunt. He tried to disguise his adolescent prejudices when he asked, "Why do you wear so much... _purple?"_

The brunette simply blinked in bewilderment before he smiled softly, and at first, Mark was worried that he might have offended him. However, the reply was straight to the point, and it didn't show any signs of him being hurt by the seemingly innocent question. "Because my old man was the one to give me this bandanna, I guess," he explained, tugging at the fabric of the same faded hue restraining his unruly curls, "Does it really matter, though?"

"I guess not," Mark fibbed, a bit too quickly. The other's warm gaze didn't question him further, but for good measure, he added, "I was just curious is all."

"Satisfied then?" Denny laughed as he whipped the covers back. The blonde nodded and made his way to his side of the bed while the fisherman stretched himself out for the night. His back popped a few times, causing the farmer to flinch, but the man merely sighed and brought the blanket over him like it was nothing to concern himself with. Kuu had already hoped off of his shoulder, and he'd nestled himself in the pillow just above his captain's head.

Luckily, he was a bit smaller in build than his friend, and Mark was able to slip in easily beside him without getting too close for comfort. He was actually grateful now that he'd let himself get talked into buying a big bed after expanding his home.

What he _still_ didn't understand was why Chen had curiously displayed a blue feather in his shop when he, or anyone _else_ on the island, wasn't involved with someone at the moment.

"Good night, buddy," the brunette said with a yawn. Almost immediately after he'd settled into the covers and closed his eyes, Mark could feel the other's breath rise and fall evenly through the mattress, and he assumed his guest had already fallen asleep. He chuckled quietly to himself at this before rolling over with his back facing the other man. However, just as he was about to drift off to sleep himself, he suddenly found he was being held gently around his small waist.

His head snapped around to find that Denny had cozied up to him, and although he tried to pull away, he found that the other's grip was too secure. He glanced above the man's soundly sleeping form to see Kuu smirking in their direction, and while it was in the deep darkness of the evening, he _swore_ he saw the bird wiggle his eyebrows knowingly at them. Since he was clearly helpless to prevent the fisherman from snuggling even closer to him, almost spooning him in the process, Mark could only sigh in defeat and _try_ to rest easy.

_This_ was going to be a _long_ night...

--

**Author's Note:** He he, sorry for making Mark a little homophobic, but I still think it's cute. What _better_ reason to put him that sort of situation! X3

Oh, and of course Kuu is well-aware of Denny's interests even if he's not willing to admit to them. ;)

Next up will be Vaughn, but it'll be a bit of a challenge since unlike our lil' fisherman, I have a hard time putting him in a yaoi relationship. Unless you count yunakitty's _Brokeback Island_... (Yes, that's a shameless plug on my part for you to read it!)


	2. Milk and Coffee

**Author's Note:** I'm surprised that I got _this_ inspired for a Vaughn x Denny one-shot. Maybe it had something to do with me spending over fours hours at my favorite coffee shop drinking apple cider as is my custom, or perhaps that epic conversation on the Village Square forums?

Either way, I hope you all enjoy!

--

**Milk and Coffee**

Every Wednesday, at _precisely_ five o'clock, the same foreboding character would stride into the diner and set himself down at the counter. Although people rarely let their eyes settle on the silver-haired man for long, he was an incredibly handsome fellow other than his ever present scowl. His clothing was rather simple which wasn't surprising as he was the local animal trader, but from his jeans to his hat, he wore an almost overwhelming amount of black. The only variations were his tan boots, matching vest, and the white bandanna tied securely around his neck, but these accessories did little to lighten his oppressive image.

What distanced people from him the most wasn't the clothes he wore, though. It was his overall demeanor, and the very way in which he carried himself. If he caught someone's gaze lingering on him for longer than he felt was appropriate, he would send them a sharp glare with his peculiar, striking violet eyes, and they would cower under their scrutiny, quickly turning away from the mere sight of him.

In short, he was probably the most intimidating character to be found on the island.

His companion was a stark contrast to his sullen nature, for when the fisherman came into the restaurant an hour following the other, the entire room breathed a collective sigh of relief. He was like a breath of fresh air that swept through the place with his jovial nature and welcoming smile, and he greeted every face he happened to recognize among the customers. His voice was warm and familiar, yet once he took his seat beside the other man, he'd immediately fall into a comfortable silence.

Though he was a bit younger than the ranch hand, he was certainly just as attractive with his tanned skin and chocolate brown eyes. The bashful way in which he'd twirl his curls around his finger could charm any girl, but he kept the unruly mess secure beneath a faded, purple bandanna. The towel he let hang around his neck smelled faintly of fish and salty ocean breezes, and his boots always left a trail of small puddles behind him. Despite this, his appearance was rather unassuming since he chose to wear a pair of old blue jeans and a black sleeveless shirt that showed off his well toned arms.

Still, it was the bird resting on his shoulder that brought the most attention.

The sailor was never without the small creature, and perhaps it was because of him that the two men got along so well. After all, the trader's intense gaze seemed to soften slightly whenever it fell on the rather plump mass of sleek, black feathers. Some even swore they'd seen a ghost of an actual _smile_ slip over the surface his normally stoic features, but it remained nothing more than a rumor among the diner's patrons since neither man would affirm or deny it.

As far as anyone could tell, they were complete opposites. However, every Wednesday night the two would be sitting next to each other at the diner, and although neither man would say a word, they seemed rather comfortable in one another's company. If someone else happened to try and join them, they would suddenly become cold towards the person, and they'd simply ignore the individual until it was clear that additional company was unwelcome. At first, there had been whispers about their curious behavior, but soon enough it became nothing more than what had been spoken at diners the world over.

'The Usual...'

Usually, the evenings the two spent at the restaurant were uneventful, and it was just another part of the island's comfortable routine. However, _this_ week's course of events were about to be take a slightly different turn since the cowboy's seat remained noticeably empty by five thirty. No one knew what to make of the situation at first, but as six o'clock rolled around, there was a heavy cloud of uncertainty settling over the customers. This had simply never happened before, and people were becoming increasingly anxious. When the door opened, the crowd held a collective breath.

A light and melodic voice drifted into the space as a young woman skipped inside. She was a rather new sight in the small village, but although she could be shrill at times, her overall sweet nature had already won many hearts. Her long, soft blonde hair trailed after her inside, and she made a little spin, causing her delicate, teal dress and its pink fringes to twirl along with her. The man who followed her was a familiar face, yet he wasn't the one they had all been waiting for.

Being a regular, the fisherman suddenly stopped in the doorway after he realized that his usual companion was no where to be found. As if he was unsure of himself, he immediately checked the clock. Clear as day, it read five after six, but his disgruntled expression didn't fade, and the girl was quick to take notice.

"Denny," she asked quietly, "are you alright?" He merely blinked after being in a daze of sorts, but he soon reassured her with a warm smile.

"Yeah... I was just wondering where Vaughn is," he explained, still searching the small diner for the other man. Finally, he sighed in defeat and made his way towards the counter where he had made the habit of sitting every night that he wandered in, regardless of the date, but when the young woman sat down in the trader's seat, he involuntarily winced. Although he didn't say a word, it was clear that he considered it to be _his_ seat, no one else's.

However, she didn't seem to notice his discomfort with her sitting next to him, and she continued to ramble on as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Denny couldn't help feeling otherwise. It just wasn't... _right_ without Vaughn at his side since that's just the way it had always been. He wasn't sure how to tell her this, though, so he decided it was for the best if he let her stay there despite how he felt about the matter. Still, she soon realized that he wasn't following along with the one-way conversation, and she questioned him for a time with her gentle, honey orbs.

"Oh, did I take someone's spot?" she wondered aloud. She gasped apologetically and began glancing around frantically for someone who she assumed was standing over her as they waited to take a seat.

"Well, it's just that Vaughn's usually there," he murmured, feeling his cheeks warm slightly when he considered that he must sound absolutely childish. He really couldn't explain _why_ it upset him so terribly, but he knew something didn't feel quite right.

"Sounds like you two are good friends," she observed, making her way around him to the other side. Although the bird on his shoulder nodded vigorous, Denny merely shrugged, and she raised an eyebrow, not sure who to believe. There _were_ moments when she the thought his small companion knew more about his feeling than _he_ even did, so she inclined to believe that this was one of those situations. Sitting back down again on a different stool, she continued, "Kuu certainly thinks so." The fisherman glanced at his shipmate who was smiling warmly at him.

"Lanna..." he began with a heavy sigh. "That's because he always get _treats_ when Vaughn's around," Denny explained, shaking his head. Apparently insulted by this assumption, Kuu turned away from him and began to pout, puffing up his feathers in annoyance. However, the man merely rolled his eyes at this behavior since he'd dealt with it countless times before. _"Fine,_ be mad at me..." he grumbled, resting his chin in his hand as he thought

"You're being awfully harsh, aren't you?" she asked, smiling knowingly at him. He caught her sly expression, and a brilliant brush of scarlet dashed across his cheeks. _"Hiding_ something?" Lanna continued to tease.

"Back off," he warned her sharply. What she had in mind was a personal matter Denny didn't exactly feel... _comfortable_ discussing the situation at the moment, but she seemed to be determined to get the truth out of him by any means necessary. Although he'd rather not dwell on it, he knew he'd have to put up quite the fight to defend the normal life on the island he'd been leading thus far, yet he also knew it'd be worth the struggle to keep what little respect had been offered to him by the townspeople. "This isn't like the city..."

_There's no way that I could..._

"So what?" Lanna demanded, resting her hands indignantly on her hips. "No one's going to think any less of you," she assured him after she recognized the hurt flickering in his chocolate brown eyes. He couldn't help doubting her words, but he tried not to let on as much. There was only so much he could believe in this world, and the thought that the people of this budding, farming community might accept him and his lifestyle was completely beyond him. _She_ wasn't the one who had to deal with their accusing stares and spiteful glances. He'd managed before since he traveled from port to port without much trouble. If someone didn't like him or what he was doing, it was as simple as taking his fishing rig out of the harbor and heading for a new shore.

He could always do more or less the same when it came down to it, but he actually _liked_ living here. He couldn't even imagine living anywhere else now, it seemed.

"Denny, I don't want to see you ending up as the crazy bird man..." the young woman sighed before glancing over at his disgruntled companion who was trying to scowl at her. "Of course I'm not referring to _you,_ Kuu," she added quickly. She hadn't meant any harm since she honestly thought of him as more of a _person_ than a bird, so the words had slipped without her even being aware of them. The little fellow smiled then, and he returned to gazing up sympathetically at his forlorn captain.

"Well, I-"

Before the fisherman could utter a reply, the diner's front door was driven right into the wall, and the patrons who'd been quietly enjoying their meals and light conversation turned their heads to see who had stormed into the place. Although it shouldn't have come to anyone's surprise, it was Vaughn who made his way through the restaurant with a determined, if not seemingly _violent_, gait. He didn't even glance in the fisherman's direction after he slammed down his money on the table, and he unceremoniously sat himself in usual spot.

The other man could only blink in surprise to see his companion so furious. Yes, he knew the animal trader had a temper, but he couldn't have imagined that it ever got _this_ intense. The animosity was practically rolling off the normally reserved cowboy while the sailor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't exactly sure if he should say anything since he didn't know what reaction he might get, so he decided it was best to just keep the silence.

It was all they had between them to begin with, so what was the harm in things remaining that way?

"Fucking bullshit," Vaughn growled bitterly under his breath. His voice was so low that his companion could barely hear it, but he _had_ which made all the different. He swallowed the lump in his throat just as prepared himself to ask what it was that troubled his... friend. Well, what _else_ could he call him? Although they had never spoken to one another, there was certainly _something_ between them after all this time sitting by one another every Wednesday. However, he didn't have a chance to speak before the angry man began to search his front pocket, his hands shaking with annoyance, and he produced a cigarette. Only after it was lit did his shoulders fall slightly back into relative comfort.

"Vaughn..." Luke, the diner's owner, began uncertainly as he brought over a mug of coffee and a bowl of porridge to him. "You know you're not allowed to smoke here," he reminded him, trying to appear firm. However, his resolve faltered when the sullen tradesman shot him a glare that read as far more than a mere warning, and it sent the poor cook scurrying back to his kitchen without another word.

Lanna watched this all with mild curiosity while she wondered more about how her friend could possibly care so much for the rather bad tempered cowboy. Denny remained quiet, though, since he had decided it was better not to disturb him, and there was an uneasy silence that fell over the entire restaurant. There wasn't even the clatter of plates or the scraping of silverware to be heard, for no one wanted to incur Vaughn's wrath. It had never been seen before, but there was no doubt it was legendary.

Kuu, on the other hand, wasn't affected by the heavy atmosphere in the room, and he took it upon himself to ease the tension. He waltz right over to the perturbed man before he peaked at his hand impatiently. Everyone who had witnessed this held their breath in an anticipation for a fierce retaliation, but to the tentative audience's surprise, Vaughn's violet eyes actually _softened_ to see the small creature. He simply reached into a small satchel attached to one of his belt loops, and he offered a minnow to the impatient bird. Kuu grinned broadly to see it, and he immediately swallowed it one gulp. "Satisfied?" the man grunted which was about as close has he had ever gotten to a chuckle.

Denny smiled weakly, but he didn't say a word at first. He knew his shipmate would be able to crack any man's hard shell, so it didn't surprise him any that his crew member could ease someone's discomfort even if that someone was Vaughn. No one was immune to the peculiar bird's charms, it seemed...

However, Lanna had different ideas for how to get the pair to open up to one another, and she motioned for Kuu to come over to see her. Once he had come to join her, she whispered in something to him behind her delicate, ivory hand, and he crawled up the length of her arm quickly in response, perching on her shoulder proudly at last. "Well, boys," she began, bringing them out of their comfortable silence, "I'll be back shortly, so you two enjoy yourselves." With that announcement, she skipped off to the ladies' room, and the men were left in each other's company.

For a while, neither said anything to the other, but they silently agreed that it for the best. However, soon enough Denny began to shift uncomfortably in his seat, and he was finding it strangely difficult to keep quiet any longer although he was still unsure about what he should say. Finally, he managed to ask weakly, "Don't you usually have milk in your coffee?"

The rancher blinked at first, not accustomed to being brought into a conversation with the fisherman, but then he glanced down into his mug to find that the other had been right. Vaughn muttered angrily to himself at his order not being filed out correctly before he demanded, "Dammit, Luke! Where the _fuck_ is my milk?" He slammed the mug down onto the counter which caused it to shatter due to the sheer force of the impact, and even his friend flinched in surprise at the sudden show of violence. Even so, he managed to stay calm enough to continue talking as if nothing had just happened.

Regardless of how difficult that was to accomplish since hot coffee was dripping onto his pant leg...

"You didn't have to waste it," Denny admonished him gently, trying to wipe up the mess with the napkins that were within reach. When the other glanced at him curiously, he explained further, "I would've drank it if you didn't want it."

"Do you drink it black?" Vaughn asked, stoic as ever although he raised an eyebrow with mild interest. After the fisherman gave him a slight nod, he wrinkled his nose slightly in disgust. His companion merely chuckled at his expression.

"Is it too bitter?" he replied. He was a little bit surprised that he managed to get the usually distant cowboy to speak more than a single word in a civil conversation, but he certainly wasn't one to complain. There was a reason he hadn't spoken to him before, after all. Unfortunately, the moment was short-lived as the owner came over to confront his most unsavory customer.

"Vaughn, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to..." Luke faltered under the man's unwavering glare, but he remained firm once he took a deep breath to steady himself. "You'll have to leave now."

Although the tradesman stood up abruptly to confront him, Denny placed his hand on his arm to try to calm him back down again. He smiled warmly towards him and offered, "If you want, I can brew you up something at my place." Then with a slight laugh, he added, "And I have milk there, too." After a moment, Vaughn agreed with a stiff nod, and the fisherman had to stifle his enthusiasm which he was able to do with little ease. His mind had begun to race, and he wondered if the permanent state of disarray in his home would insult his guest. However, he wasn't about to revoke his invitation due to a failing on his part to do any housekeeping.

Making their way out of the diner, neither one noticed Kuu's absence, but as they left, Lanna and the bird peeked out from behind the ladies' room door. The two associates followed the unlikely pair with their eyes, and then turning to face one another, they smiled knowingly at what had just transpired. "It's up to _him_ now, Kuu," she giggled.

--

"So is that your woman?" Vaughn asked suddenly. He and his host had both been walking in silence, and it was strange how he had been the one to break it. He seemed rather irritated yet although his anger had subsided considerably. At first, Denny didn't reply since he was too enraptured in his thick voice and its smooth tone, but once he felt the other's eyes resting on him expectantly, he scrambled to reply.

"Lanna?" he replied as he raised an eyebrow. "Naw, she's a nice girl, but..." He paused, not sure if he should elaborate further. Glancing over at the other man, he bit his lower lip nervously, and he began to toy with his bandanna to ease his growing anxiety.

"Not you're type?" the tradesman finished for him, lighting another cigarette. The glowing embers illuminated his face which was as smooth and white as porcelain, and his violet eyes seemed to have a spark of interest flickering there. However, there was no reason for the fisherman to get his hopes up just yet. The man might just be curious about him since they'd never really spoken before.

"You could say that," Denny agreed with a soft smile, his own warm, brown eyes growing distant. "How about you?" he asked innocently, glancing over towards the figure beside him. "A man like yourself has to have a nice lady friend somewhere." Even so, he secretly hoped that wasn't the case...

"Used to," was the cold, distant reply. There wasn't any shift in his voice, and therefore, it was nothing but a simple statement which actually unnerved the fisherman _more._ He couldn't explain why, though, since he'd secretly been praying that there would be no one else only a moment before, but somehow... it was very disheartening. Did the man just set his old flames aside as if they didn't matter to him, or was he too afraid to deal with his own feelings of loss and betrayal?

"What happened?" his companion pressed gently. Although he tried to turn away slightly, his warm, brown eyes continued to shine in the pale moonlight, and a concerned softness lingered in them, clearly visible beneath the surface. Vaughn studied him for a while before returning his attention to the sight just ahead of the pair. While he had often come down to the shoreline, he realized that he hadn't noticed the delapitated shack resting on the beach. It looked like it may fall into ruin under its own meager weight, but he didn't give the state of the place a single thought since he was more interested in its owner. He couldn't explain it, yet he felt _something_ was off about him...

"I wasn't a god, I guess," Vaughn explained in his usual, blunt manner. He didn't offer anything more, so Denny was left to accept the reply for what it was, regardless of what little sense he could make of it. He didn't want to question his guest any further, lest he agitate him in some way, and he figured it wouldn't take much to understand once he was able to think past his growing anticipation to have the slightly taller gentleman in his home. He smiled slightly to think of the sullen character at his side as a 'gentleman' of any sort, but in his mind, the other had treated him well enough over time. He might be the only one to think so highly of him, though.

"That's why I don't bother with them," Denny commented as he began to open his front door, and then he suddenly went rigid when he realized how much he had said in that one, simple phrase. His face immediately warm before he had even snuck a glance towards the man at his side. The tradesman didn't appear phased although he raised an eyebrow at the implication, but the young man still internally squirmed under his heavy gaze. "I-I mean..." he tried to correct himself. However, he couldn't regain his voice and his words soon died into an uncomfortable silence. He closed his eyes tightly to try and shut out his embarrassment and the other's stares, yet it was seemingly in vain... _There's no way that he'd..._

"You should know I don't swing that way," the cowboy remarked frankly, not even flinching as he absorbed what had been said. He didn't appear to be fazed which was a saving grace in itself, but the fisherman felt his heart fall into his stomach to hear the rejection. He managed to take a deep breath to steady himself as he began to apologize.

"Well, I didn't think so... because I mean, you're not exactly-"

He didn't even manage to finish before the words were sealed away with a rather rough kiss, and he couldn't help but squeak in surprise. When the man pulled back from him, he found he was absolutely speechless. His tongue was thick and heavy, unable to form a single syllable for a time, although his tanned cheeks were burningly brightly and eyes were wide was complete shock. The other remained stoic as ever, yet he could see the fabled ghost of a smile tugging at his lips... the very ones that had been on his own only a second earler.

Once he found his voice again, Denny murmured, "But I thought you had said that you-" Another kiss, more passionate than the last silenced him once more, and his worries melted away as he relished the unexpected gesture. What was the point in questioning something that he'd been hoping for all this time?

Every week, he waited for Wednesday to come again, so he could enjoy the man's company even if there was never a word exchanged between them. Yes... they were certainly opposites in their overall nature. While he was known as a kind man with a reassuring smile, the trader was thought of as an aloof individual with an intense scowl. He was likened to the wide open skies of the day, yet the other was like the reclusive darkness of the night. Even so, could there be anything more satisfying than the bitterness of coffee mixed with the sweetness of milk?

A perfect balance between two distinct flavors... that's what the kiss had tasted like.

"Did I say I wouldn't make an exception?" Vaughn muttered gruffly, leaning over the young man and resting a hand on the fragile wall behind him. With his free hand, he lifted Denny's head to match his warm gaze to his cold one, and even though it took a considerable effort on his part to do so, he offered him a forced smile. It was more of a smirk, really, but the other merely returned it with a genuine grin of his own. Wrapping his arms around the cowboy's neck, he chuckled to himself and kissed him once more.

_I suppose love will always find a way..._

_--_

**Author's Note:** Well, I hope that this satisfied all of you wonderful Denny x Vaughn fans since I think it worked out quite well. My only concern for how quickly this relationship has begun is... 'Does that make Denny the fall back?' O.o

Oh well, as long as he's happy, right?

Anyway, next up is Shea, and that one promises to be fun for me to write since the lil' jungle boy is so adorable to begin with. Being paired with Denny just makes him that much better in my mind! X3


	3. Some More, Please?

**Author's Note:** Meh, I know that Shea's _supposed_ to be next, but with this food sub-theme going on in this series, I just had to write Pierre's first... Maybe it's because I have no food in my apartment? But even Pierre can't save me without groceries to cook with! DX

And thus this was born, so please enjoy!

--

**Some More, Please?**

There's a very fine line between being hungry and being gluttonous, and since he was a gourmet, Pierre found this line to be all the more difficult not to cross. However, it seemed that today the little blonde had no hopes of appeasing his rather large appetite, and even after clearing his shelves of absolutely _everything,_ he found that his stomach still felt as empty as his pantry. This was quite a troubling thing... because it had simply never happened before. Although it was true he could eat his fill (and then some), he had actually never eaten himself out of house and home before. He'd heard of such a thing from his infamous uncle in Mineral Town, of course, but until today, he thought it was nothing more than a wonderful story.

Suddenly, his stomach rumbled once more, even louder than it had earlier, and he began to think maybe it hadn't been so 'wonderful' as he'd once thought.

"Oh, this won't do at all," he sighed, opening the fridge for the umpteenth time in the past fifteen minutes. He shut the door and leaned against it until sliding down onto the floor in both agony and defeat. What could he possible do to remedy the situation? Even if he made an order with Natalie's family, he'd have to wait an entire _day_ for the shipment to come in, being that it was now late in the evening. Maybe he could ask Mark... After all, the young farmer _did_ grow produce, not to mention he raised cows and chickens as well, so surely he'd have _something _to-

"Wait just a tick," he began while lifting in his top hat to scratch his head in thought. "Didn't father say something about this once?" He brooded for a moment, tapping his foot on the kitchen floor, as he tried to sort through all that he had learned from his father over the years, but soon enough, he had recalled a bit of wisdom from his childhood to fit the occasion. Snapping his fingers, he quoted the older man effortlessly, "'It's time for something new to chew!'"

He should've considered it before, of course. It was rather silly that he didn't think of it sooner since that's why he'd come to the island in the first place. Still, he had thought of it now, and in the end, that was all that mattered because he could _finally_ satisfied his hunger. Well... _perhaps_ he would be able to.

Pierre grinned eagerly as he picked himself off the floor. and hustling over to a drawer towards the far end of the counter, he found a small, black book which had the words 'Foodie Log' emblazoned across the front cover in gold foil. Inside of this, he had given extra care in filling out the starch white pages with every meal he had eaten since the beginning of his training to become a gourmet. There were times when he smiled in fond remembrance of cuisines from days past, but there were also moments where he shivered at the mere _thought_ of ingesting a particular item again. Some things, such as snails, were better left to nature's palette in his opinion.

At last, he had finished the tiny booklet, and although it wasn't very much to go on, being that he'd eaten nearly every dish ever known to mankind, he mused that at least he had a starting point. After all, there had to be _something_ he had never eaten.

It seemed as though hours passed before he decided that it was hopeless to try and think within the confines of his humble abode. His home was certainly cozy enough, but there was very little inspiration to be found in plaster walls and wooden floors. He pondered over the matter, and although it was certainly dark outside this late at night, he figured he might be able to think of something after a stroll around the outside. Maybe the jungle would have something to offer...

Glancing over to his empty cupboards once more with his plum-colored eyes, he laughed despite himself. "Well, I can't very well cook without any ingredients, either, can I?"

--

The night air was cool against his pale skin, but Pierre was far too anxious to give it much thought. He was hot enough under the collar as it was since his hunger continued to nag at him. Although he'd clearly eaten already, he couldn't help feeling like his insides were trying to eat _themselves_. He'd never known anything that could compare to this, yet he knew he never wanted to experience it again. _Is this what it feels like to starve?_ he wondered nervously while making his way through the streets of the east side of town.

He couldn't imagine what it must be like for others to fast when _clearly_ this was nothing sort of agony. The clawing in his stomach was painful at best, and he couldn't wait for it to end.

Even so, when he finally arrived at the entrance to the jungle, he had to admit his resolve was quickly shaken. The dark canopy of the palm trees loomed overhead while the shadowy underbrush leered at him from below which sent uneasy shivers rolling down his spine. He hugged his purple jacket closer to his frail body, but it did little to ease his troubled mind. He felt as though he was being watched from all directions while he crept past the ferns, their tendrils reaching out and threatening to drag him further into the bowels of the ominous beast. However, it was no longer a game after he heard a frightening screech coming from some... _creature_.

Although he prided himself as a calm individual, he immediately yelped and scurried back across the bridge to the safety of civilization. "Oh good heavens," he gasped, clamping a delicate hand over his chest, "what on earth _was_ that?"

"Probably a bird," a voice replied cooly which nearly made him cry out again. However, when he turned on his heel to see who had spoken, he immediately breathed a sigh of relief. It was only the local fisherman... and although the scent of fish that clung to him was a bit off-putting, he still managed to smile gratefully towards the brunette.

"Denny," he sighed, "thank heavens it's only _you..." _The other man raised an eyebrow at first, but soon a cat-like grin made its way across his chapped lips.

"Now that's not very nice, Squirt," he teased the petite blonde before lifting up the young man's hat to ruffle his hair. Pierre scowled while he did his best to bite his tongue. He was a gentleman, after all, and regardless of the ruffian's treatment of him, he thought better of swearing himself a blue steak. Not that he would've been able to out cuss a sailor by any means...

"You're so..." he began, feeling a bit flustered.

"Charming?" the fisherman finished for him with another brilliant smile. When his companion didn't reply, he glanced at the purple top hat in his hands and put it on his head over his bandanna of the same color. When the other started to pout in frustration, he just laughed at him in his usual way. "Oh, come on now, Wonka," he chuckled, "you're way too serious." However, after he realized that Pierre wasn't laughing _with_ him, he immediately shut himself up like a steel trap. "Sorry," he blurted unceremoniously.

"Like I was _saying,"_ the young man continued, "you're so unbelievably _difficult."_ The brunette frowned, but he didn't say anything else on the matter. He just waved the comment off like it was nothing more than a harmless prod at his ego. "Where's you lil' friend?" the chef asked out of the blue, motioning to the other's unusually bare shoulder.

"Probably waiting for me back home," Denny explained with a shrug. "He usually gets me in trouble with the owners when I bring him to the diner." Then he laughed again before he added, "I guess they wouldn't mind if he stopped trying to eat the other orders, though!" His blonde companion raised an eyebrow, but eventually he just shook his head in defeat. It was hard to try to explain Kuu's eccentric behavior, not that he could believe it himself at times.

"Is he always with you?" Pierre pressed gently. Just then, his stomach growled angrily to remind him of his mission, and he blushed immediately, feeling the shame burning within him.

"Aren't you always hungry?" his companion quipped with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow playfully. "If you need something to eat, I've got soup on back home," he offered, already pulling the young man along. The small cook tried to protest, but he found it hard to find the words he needed since the invitation _was_ rather tempting to not only his hunger but his mind as well. After all, he'd never really gone anywhere besides the east side of town and the jungle to the north.

Maybe he'd find some new ingredients, too...

--

"Kuu, I'm home!" the fisherman called out into the rather... _unsightly _shanty that he apparently called home. His guest did his best not to complain while he was ushered inside and offered a seat on a small cushion resting on the floor. He sat obediently, and as he did so, he happened to notice the black kettle resting over an open fire. He was surprised he hadn't noticed the tantalizing scent wafting from the pot upon coming to the shack, but it certainly pervaded his senses now. It was such an alluring scent, and although he could distinctly smell seaweed, an odd choice for a stew, there was something unfamiliar as well. Pierre could only guest that it was fish, yet to be honest, he wasn't absolutely sure.

His host returned soon enough with his loyal shipmate at his usual perch on his shoulder, and the pudgy, black bird studied the newcomer curiously before taking an interest in the meal that was clearly already at a boil. The creatures eyes shown with hunger, but it made no other obvious signs of its empty stomach. In fact, he seemed to be patiently waiting.

Pierre, on the other hand, was all but biting his well manicured nails in anticipation. The setting was unconventional as it was without him being the one waiting for another to finish the necessary preparations. He wasn't exactly used to someone _else_ cooking since he fancied himself the best.

After all, what kind of gourmet couldn't _cook?_

"Sorry that it's not much," Denny apologized as he plopped down beside him. "I didn't really have that great of a haul today which is kind of surprising being that it's spring an' all..." He thought on something for a moment, and then he continued without even waiting for a reply. "I guess the water's still a bit too cold cause winter just got over with, but I still thought I'd catch _something_ worth while." He sighed and shook his head in defeat while he said it, yet his companion wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't like _he_ ever had that problem...

Or did he?

"Well, my day was nothing to boast about, either," he confessed, blushing slightly. "Can you believe that I used up _all_ of my ingredients in one day?" The fisherman blinked, completely stupefied, as if that had been the _last_ thing he would've expected, and Pierre could only giggle a bit to see his humorous expression. It really was indescribable... "Strange isn't it? A chef running out of things to cook with... Who would've thought?"

"My question is, where do you _put_ it all?" the man replied, scratching his head in confusion. Now it was the blonde's turn to blink since he didn't understand what the other could possibly be asking him. "What I mean is," his host clarified, "how is that someone as small as you could eat all _that?"_

"You know... I never thought about it before," Pierre admitted shyly as his cheeks warmed once again. "I suppose it's a result of my training to become an official gourmet..." Then he added wistfully, tapping his dainty chin with a slender finger in deep thought, "It might also help that I have such a high metabolism. Otherwise, I'm quite sure I would be as big as a house by now..." He almost laughed to think of his poor uncle who'd been given the rather appropriate title of "The Egg Man" given his almost perfectly round figure.

"I'll say!" his companion agreed, clapping him on the back playfully although it nearly sent the petite, young man flying into the flames. Unfortunately, his white scarf was slightly burned by a few stray sparks, but he didn't mention it. He could always buy another one if need be... Besides, it really wasn't anything to fuss over since the other clearly hadn't meant any harm.

Just then, he happened to sniff the air, and he immediately wrinkled his nose while the familiar scent of scorched carrots wafted by. "Do you suppose it's ready?" he asked the fisherman, trying not to sound condescending. Of course Denny wasn't a chef, so he probably didn't realize the sensitivity that came with cooking.

Still, he reasoned it'd be a horrible waste to burn what had seemed to be a promising meal...

"Oh, that's right!" the sailor laughed, standing up to scavenge for a couple bowls in a small box abandoned in a dusty corner. He produced two fairly worn tin cans, neither of which appeared to be suitable for holding anything besides worms. It was all Pierre could do not to make any sign of distaste towards his host's humble utensils, but it was seemingly in vain. "I don't have company all that often, so I gotta say I'm sorry about all this. I figure a man like yourself is probably used to the finer things in life."

"Not at all," the young gourmet countered effortlessly. "I'm honored that you're willing to cook for another on such short notice." He truly was, too, and not only because he happened to be out on his luck. If Denny had invited him on day when his cupboards were filled to the brim, he'd still accept the offer. After all, it wasn't often he was asked to dinner. Usually people expected _him_ to serve them, so this was certainly a welcomed change. Besides, he was also curious as to what the fisherman had to offer him, for he'd only seen him during the evening hours at Luke's. From this, he had always assumed he ate all of his meals at the local dinner...

After telling him his assumptions, Denny chuckled and explained, "Well, I _do_ eat over there with Lanna." Before the blonde could even ask anything further, he added, "I tend to eat a lot, too. If I'm going to be out on the open sea, I better have a lot of energy, you know!"

"Whatever for?" Pierre persisted. He reasoned that fishing couldn't be all _that_ rigorous, could it? One only had to cast a line and wait, and that couldn't be very challenging for anyone, he supposed. _Surely_ there was nothing to it. In fact, he was very certain he could do it himself if given the chance. Now wouldn't it be an interesting thought to have a man that many mistook for a young boy reeling in a feisty martin, he thought.

"Because I have to deal with the sharks that get caught in my nets," the fisherman replied with a casual shrug. Just as he handed his guest his meal, he added, "Like the one in your soup."

The gourmet paused before taking a spoonful of the steaming liquid and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, and his plum eyes studied his host for a long while. He couldn't be _serious_ about such a claim_,_ for this had to be nothing more than some fisherman's tale. After all, how could one man possibly handle a _shark_ of all things? It just didn't seem plausible even for a skilled individual such as Denny. It was simply an impossible task...

"You've _got_ to be kidding..." he scoffed, dismissing the other's comment with a wave of his hand. "If you expect me to believe in that awful rubbish than-"

"How about you try the stew first, and _then_ you can tell me it's not true," the brunette challenged him. Kuu nodded vigorously in agreement with his black eyes narrowed and a playful smirk. Although both of them were seemingly confident, Pierre remained skeptical. He was well versed in the unique taste of all manners of fish, of course, and because he had never _had_ shark before, he decided to play their little game. His palette would be the one to tell him whether or not he was _truly_ eating something as rare and unfamiliar as a shark.

"Very well then," he agreed with a huff. He stirred the broth around until a sliver of white flesh came to the surface, and lifting the spoonful to his satin lips, he breathed in the distinct aroma. He had to admit he'd never smelled anything quite like it before, but he supposed it was nothing more than the humble ingredients that were throwing off his recognition of the scent. However, when the hot morsel settled in his mouth, he actually gasped in surprise. "Good heavens," he muttered breathlessly, "this _must_ be shark..." Then gazing up at his host, he began to sputter, "I-I mean... what _else _could it be?"

"Don't be so surprised," Denny laughed, settling down beside him. "I'm not exactly as girly as _you,"_ he teased with a playful wink. Pierre painfully swallowed mid-cough, having taken another spoonful, and while he beat his chest with his fist in order to keep himself from choking, the other man patted his back, chuckling all the same. "Oh come on," he continued, "it's not your fault you look like a girl, you know."

"I am most certainly _not_ a girl," the blonde retorted, feeling his face warming once again. He'd been teased in the private school he'd attended as a young man for his feminine features, but he was surprised for another to have mentioned it to him as well. "Whatever would give you _that_ impression?" he demanded after regaining his dignity somewhat.

"Because you _act_ like a girl," the fisherman explained effortlessly, "not to mention, you _look_ like one." As if he was trying to prove his point, he tugged on the tail of the gourmet's purple coat. "You're also a good cook, and-"

"My... aren't _we_ sexist," Pierre grumbled under his breath which managed to catch the other off-guard for an instant. However, soon enough Denny was laughing quietly to himself, and he set down his tin cup, still filled to the brim, with a good-natured sigh. As if right on cue, Kuu hopped off from his shoulder to scavenge the abandoned meal, leaving the men to their amusement. He already knew where this was going, so there wasn't any point in paying them any more attention. His captain had always been the kind of man who didn't like to waste his time. Besides, it wasn't everyday that he got to enjoy a dinner quite like _this, _and he wasn't about to miss it for some crazy, night-time shenanigans...

"Well, I'll admit I don't think all that much of women," the man confessed with a knowing smile. His half-lidded, warm brown eyes smoldered, and the petite, young gourmet felt something rush through him just before his purple jacket was slipped off of his shoulders and became a puddle on the floor around him. His mind raced when he finally realized what was happening.

Still, he couldn't deny that there was a certain... _thrill_ to this unexpected change of events.

"Are you implying that..." his voice died away as the fisherman's steamy gaze settled over him completely, brushing aside all of his outside thoughts and concerns. Why hadn't he noticed how rugged the man had looked earlier? Did Denny always have such toned arms, not to mention the _rest_ of his body, or was it just the way his black wife-beater fit so perfectly close to his torso? Although he gulped slightly with uncertainty, he found he couldn't even protest as the other began unbuttoning his orange vest with ease. This was undoubtably the work of a professional...

Pierre didn't bother to gasp in surprise when Denny's lips met his own. In fact, despite being drunk with an unfamiliar sense of pleasure, he thought he heard himself _moan _in what was curiously nothing short of absolute ecstasy. He also had to admit he felt a bit perturbed to find that the kiss had been cut short. The young man was about to protest the other's sudden reluctance to go any further, but he caught a mischievous spark in his companion's eyes which kept him from saying anything. He could only wait for an explanation, and although he was a bit startled by his own behavior, being that he'd never considered another man before, all he knew was he wanted more.

Though he recalled once kissing a young woman in his youth, he had never felt something quite like this. Whatever it was, it had burned through him in a way no other emotion ever had. He found _liked _it, and he wanted _more._ Even so, he wasn't sure if he was quite ready for the next remark to come from his partner.

"If you're still hungry," Denny purred with a wink, "I might have something _else_ for you to try..."

--

**Author's Note:** Well, you bunch of pervs... I'll just leave you to finish the rest off for yourselves because I'm not going any further on _that_ one. I don't want to have to raise the rating for this, after all. ;)

Honestly, I was just planning on something completely innocent, but I guess this story had different ideas. So much for the possibility of these being taken as friendship stories! XD


	4. One True Contender

**Author's Note:** Well, now is the time that all (four or is it five?) of you get your ultimate wish. At last, we have a DennyxShea one-shot! Huzzah!

Sorry it took so long, but since I kept coming up with material that I actually wanted to use for HLS or other projects, I had to keep going back to the writing board all over again. It happened six times! DX

Even so, please enjoy.

--

**One True Contender**

Stalking one's prey is never an easy task, and yet... it was absolutely _thrilling._ The sound of his hot blood rhythmically pumping in his ears, the dirty sweat trickling down his brow, the slightly cheesy taste in his mouth from dehydration after spending hours in the hot, summer sun just _waiting... _Oh, how he loved every single moment of it!

However, even the greatest of hunters have limits, and he was certain that he was reaching his at that very moment. His vision was becoming blurry after spending the past five hours staring intently at the same exact spot just below an unusual purple, not to mention _metal,_ roof, and his muscles were becoming increasingly tense and more cramped with each passing second. He wasn't sure how much longer he could bear the stain, but he was certain he was nearing his breaking point. He could only hope his victim would make an appearance before he...

With that thought, it seemed his prayer would finally be answered as a door opened from below him, and he positioned himself at the ready for an all out attack. Just when he'd managed to find his footing, he caught sight of a hint of purple that was in motion, and he made an almost desperate lunge for it with a fierce battle cry at the very last instant.

Unfortunately, he hadn't planned on having a black mass of feathers come flying at him out of no where as it made a god-awful screech and the two fierce warriors collided in midair.

There wasn't even a chance for him to land on his feet, and soon enough his face made impact with the ground which also earned him a mouthful of sand. As if to add insult to injury, he could hear his prey laughing at his folly as well. He was used to the mockery of the sound, though, since he'd dealt with it on numerous occasions in the past, but he knew it would take some time to nurse his wounded pride following this most recent defeat. Of course, he still had no intensions of giving in _just_ yet.

"You cheat!" the young man cried out, rolling over on his back to face his opponent. The other stood towering over him garbed in nothing more than a loose-fitting, purple bandanna and a pair of matching shorts, but when compared to the loincloth that he was sporting, the sailor looked as though he might be overdressed.

"How?" the man replied with a shrug. "You have your spear, and I have Kuu." Upon hearing the cretin's name, the very one who'd foiled his plans, the warrior glared up at the damned creature that had perched itself on its master's shoulder with a wicked grin on its bright orange beak. Its beady, black eyes seemed to almost laugh at him and his misfortune as well, and it only served to fuel his desire to see the bird on a split over an open fire in the near future.

"No have spear today," the wild boy reminded him crossly. Then, gazing up at the other, he added, "Denny, why no eat bird?"

"Because he's my friend," his rival explained with a heavy sigh. "And I don't know about _you,_ but I don't eat my friends." He offered a hand to help him up, but the young man's pride would not allow him to accept such a selfless gesture. Instead of taking it, he slapped it away in disgust.

"Stupid. Shea no eat humans," he growled while he tried to stand. However, a sharp pain shot up from one of his legs, and he crumpled back down to earth. Even with his injury, though, he refused to cry out which caused the other to simply raise an eyebrow quizzically.

"Well, Kuu is like a human to me," Denny explained, patting his shipmate affectionately on the head. Trying to get a man who ate almost anything that moved to understand such things was often frustrating, but he somehow managed to deal with the obstacles with relative ease. After all, he'd dealt with the natives in other places before coming here, so while his friend was a bit more stubborn than most, he was patient with him all the same. "Sure you don't need any help?" he asked as his companion tried to stand once more.

Just as Shea was about to snap at him that he was more than capable of handing himself, he collapsed again, and although he bit his lip to keep from making any sound to alert the man of the pain he was in from his fall, he still couldn't stop himself from wincing.

"Did you land on it wrong?" the fisherman asked gently, crouching down to his level. He didn't bother waiting for a reply before gingerly lifting the man's injured leg. When his companion seethed between gritted teeth, he nodded in understanding, and he immediately went to try and lift him in his arms.

"Put Shea down!" his would-be attacker snapped, striking the sailor on the head with his fist. However, even though he seriously considered it, Denny didn't drop the struggling young man, and while he continued to bear the brunt of what was a rather savage beating, he just had to smile once he saw the hint of a blush on his friend's tanned cheeks. _So he's embarrassed, is he?_ the man mused which didn't really surprise him by any means. After all...

What could be more embarrassing than for the almighty hunter to be carried, _bridal style_ no less, by the very prey he had been stalking only moments before?

"Quit squirming you," he scolded in a half-hearted manner. "Otherwise..." he purred, all but nuzzling into his companion's neck, "I might just have to tie you up." Kuu simply shook his head in dismay, but he knew better than to impart judgement on his captain's habits. Even if they _did_ involve horribly cheesy lines... and a certain someone who thought he was a _meal._

"You make no sense," Shea moaned although he still stopped his frantic thrashing. What was the use? Yes, it was true that he hated the mere _thought_ of lowering himself to the point of being carried, yet even that may have been for the best. If he was able, he easily would've avoided this great humiliation, but as it was... every time he tried to kick his unwanted escort in the head, the same jarring pain threatened to paralyzed him. All he could hope for was the reassurance that soon enough he'd be back in his hut, out of sight from all these wide eyes that studied them as they passed by.

He never really cared for outsiders all that much, to be perfectly honest. Their ways were so strange to him, and all they seemed to be able to do was stare when he passed through the revitalized parts of the island. Even with his limited vocabulary, he sometimes felt as if he did most of the talking as they were usually too busy gawking at him to be bothered to open their mouths to speak.

Denny never seemed to be troubled by him, though.

Upon first meeting him, Shea hadn't been sure _what_ to expect. After all, the only clues he had as to who the man was or could ever be to him had been the scent of fish and the sea, and although it certainly peeked his interest, he wasn't all that concerned with getting to know him any further. However, Denny had been strangely persistent about the two speaking to one another which surprised him greatly. Even now, he wanted to ask just what it was about _him_ of all the people on the island that drew so much interest.

Before he could even begin to ask the fisherman that very question, he found that he'd already been brought to the jungle, and he began fussing once again. "Put Shea down?" he all but begged, imploring with softened amber eyes. When his companion raised an eyebrow, he only sighed and muttered a few, choice curses (to the complete surprise of the other being as he didn't think the native even knew _that_ kind of language). "No want Wada to see," he explained with another sigh and a faint brush of scarlet across his youthful face.

"Okay," Denny agreed wistfully, offering him a reassuring smile. However, as soon as he rested the young man's feet on the ground, Shea all but collapsed. "Tch, I don't think that's going to work any time soon, buddy..." the sailor muttered while trying to support his friend. "Just lean on my shoulder, I guess, and try not to step on it."

Although it was a rather daunting task at best, the pair still managed to hobble their way through the undergrowth and towards the small hut which was overshadowed by the enormous tower that loomed in the distance. The summer heat only intensified with the humidity of the jungle, and yet neither of the men complained. While one was more than accustomed to the climate here, the other had always be the sort to adapt to any situation. Like a couple of chameleons, they just seemed to blend into their surroundings.

However, once they'd arrived at the open doorway of the shack, Shea seemed to collapse under his own weight, and though his companion tried to catch him, the young man still managed to slide onto the ground. Luckily for Denny, though, he just so happened to faint on a hog skin which meant he could easily be dragged inside if need be...

"Um... Wada?" the fisherman began with an unexpected air of confidence in the older man's presence. "Shea's been injured," he explained simply although the elder did not turn to face him.

Wada, a rather foul-smelling yet wise individual, didn't concern himself with facing either his adopted son who lay out cold on the dirt floor nor the guest in his home. Instead, he simply continued to concentrate on nibbling on the tail of a sun-dried lizard as he was accustomed to, and every so often, he would stir the curious brew that rested in the pot over an open fire. However, upon hearing Denny drag the boy into the place, he glanced over with his good eye to see what all the commotion was about.

"Shea... hurt?" he asked, his grating voice relaying no sign of any surprise or concern.

"'Fraid so," his visitor agreed with the same indifferent, leaving his friend to rest by the wall on the far side of the space and away from the flames of the cooking fire. "I have a feeling it's his ankle although he can't move his leg much either... He can bent it, so at least we know it's not broken. If need be, the doctor from Mineral Town should be coming here soon for his vacation, but-" Finally realizing that his host had stopped listening long ago, the fisherman fell silent once more. However, that could only last for so long before he had to open his mouth again. "Making some stew?" he asked, motioning towards the kettle.

"No..." Wada replied, bowing his head slightly. Indeed, the liquid boiling in the pot was unlike anything the sailor had ever seen, let alone _smelled_, before on his travels. However, if the leaves and various animal parts that bubbled to the surface were any indication, he knew he'd have a hard time choking it down. "Sacred drink... for Denny..." he wild man explained as he scratched the fur draped across his chest.

"Why me?" his guest pressed gently, careful not to offended the elder who'd offered him such an honor. Although he got along well enough with both of the natives, he couldn't understand the purpose behind it. Of course, from the things he'd gathered on his many travels around the world, he had an inkling that by drinking this... _whatever_ it was, he would be brought into the tribe, but he was unsure of why _he_ had been chosen for the privilege.

"Because... Denny... love Shea..." Wada replied quietly, stirring the concoction again. "Wada know... Denny... no like... women..." It was more of a statement than anything, almost as if the man were discussing the weather or what was for dinner, and yet... his guest couldn't keep his face from warming.

"Yes," the fisherman agreed with a slight chuckle, "that's very true." Upon hearing his captain's reluctant tone in his confession, Kuu, who'd been _more _than happy to remain unnoticed by these savages, reassuringly nuzzled into the young man's cheek. After all, he may not have understood his owner's trouble in accepting his preference for other men since members of _his_ species were known to look to other males for affection, but he knew that it was his job to comfort him whenever it was needed. It was something he took pride in, too.

"Tell Wada... Denny... want Shea?"

The fisherman didn't reply at first, yet his brown eyes immediately shifted towards the tanned figure that still lay on the floor. Shea's finely sculpted chest rose and fell with agonized breaths from the pain that occasionally rippled through him, but he made no sound as he slept, despite his obvious discomfort. Although it was then that the man wiped the sweat from his brow, he made no further advantages towards his injured warrior.

When was the first time he realized he had taken more than a 'liking' to Shea? Was it when the two had come to realize that they shared an unusual love for the sport of fishing, or had what was now the all too familiar sensations that coursed through him, even at this very moment, been there all along? He couldn't honestly remember, but that didn't really matter to him all that much

He'd never really been one to dwell on the past, after all.

As he lowered his head, Kuu hopped down from his perch and onto the floor. He'd watched enough of those horribly clichéd chic flicks during his captain's year long stint trying to convince himself he was straight to know what direction things were going, and he had no interest in taking any part of it. Since it was a moment clearly only meant for two, he knew it was not his place to be there whether he went unnoticed or not.

Choosing instead to sit beside the aged warrior, the unlikely pair of bird and man merely glanced at one another in understanding before gazing over towards the place where they'd left their wards. To neither one's surprise, the young men were lost in a soft, uncertain kiss. Even though the hunter had stiffened upon waking to find his lips were pressed against another's, he remained absolutely still as he had upon stalking what was once his prey, and at last, he allowed his body to relax. Of course, their guardians had expected this as well, but it still warmed their hearts to witness such things come into being.

"Wada... happy..." the old hunter murmured to his companion who had perched himself on his knee. "Shea... and Denny... be happy... too..." The small bird nodded in agreement, and though he gave a little sigh, he still couldn't help but smile.

--

**Author's Note:** If this didn't quite fit your expectations, don't worry _too_ much about it because... I'm going to be writing a ten chapter DennyxShea story in the not too distant future, so be sure to a keep a look-out for it in the coming weeks! ;D

Finally, here's a fun fact: _There are many species of birds, most notably penguins, that will ultimately chose a 'mate' of the same gender if there aren't enough males or females to go around during the breeding season. Male emperor penguins were the first to display such behavior. And now you know~_


End file.
